Sealed With a Kiss (18 page)

“Yes. I know she’ll take good care of them.”

Her pensive manner didn’t fit with her soft sexiness of moments earlier, and her next words told him why. “Do you mind if I see them for a few minutes Thanksgiving Day, since it’s their birthday?”

Rufus released her, shrugging first his left shoulder and then his right, uncertain as to how he should respond. A glance at her face told him that a negative reply would crush her. “Of course. Just call first; we might be over at Jewel’s house.”

Jewel Meade Lewis answered Rufus’s phone. “Happy Thanksgiving. Who’s calling?”

A chill went through Naomi. He had told her that she was the only woman he was kissing, but maybe he’d been joking. If not, then maybe he had lied, though that seemed out of character. Well, what did she care? She didn’t doubt that Rufus wanted her, and wanted her badly. Let this woman, whoever she was, do the worrying. Nobody intimidated Judd Logan’s granddaughter.

“This is Naomi Logan. I want to speak with Mr. Meade, please.” She made her voice sweet and seductive, almost a purr.

“Naomi! How nice to speak with you. I’ve been wanting to meet you. The twins talk about you constantly, but my brother is too tight lipped to satisfy my curiosity. Come on over. We’ll wait for you, then we’re going over to my place. How long will it take you?”

A steamroller—that’s what she was, Naomi thought. But she felt too relieved to resent it and agreed to get over to Rufus’s house in twenty minutes.

Rufus opened the door, and the twins were right behind him. He looked at the two huge, gaily wrapped boxes and the single small one before glancing inquiringly at Naomi.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt them.” The boys greeted her warmly, and she discovered a kindred soul in Jewel. Her gifts of giant pandas and a video game featuring them enchanted Preston and Sheldon.

“Come and have dinner with us, Naomi. Can you stay?” His eyes beseeched her.

“I’d love to,” she replied, attempting to hide the eagerness in her voice, “but it depends on what my grandpa is doing.” A call revealed that Judd was being fêted by the sisters of his church and had wanted her to join them. But when he learned that she would be with Rufus, he seemed happy to excuse her. She wondered whether his eagerness to pawn her off on a man hadn’t helped to cement her vow to remain unattached. His domineering behavior could also have been a factor. If Judd had been different—less obstinate, more loving and tender—would she be more willing to risk loving a man, to believe that a man’s love for her could be so powerful that he would trust her with his happiness? That he would overlook her liabilities?

Naomi wouldn’t soon forget her dinner with the Lewises and the Meades. She liked Rufus’s sister. Jewel took her in hand immediately and effortlessly made her feel like a family member, as if she belonged. She looked around at the large Duncan Phyfe table laden with food, the country curtains, and the homey touches that gave the room its lived-in character. She noticed that although the table was formally set, neither Jewel, Jeff, nor Jeff’s parents had bothered to dress. Rufus, too, wore casual attire. The twins and their two cousins, aged six and four, each said a line of grace. The dinner was a traditional one of corn chowder, roast turkey, baked ham, stewed turnip greens, candied sweet potatoes, boiled tiny white onions, a dish of raw vegetables, buttermilk biscuits, and pumpkin pie.

She entered eagerly into the camaraderie that flowed among them during the meal. Many different levels and kinds of love flowered in the small group, and the knowledge of it thrilled her. The children talked among themselves, the adults to each other, and above it all, a state-of-the-art sound system reproduced the voices of Marian Anderson and Paul Robeson singing spirituals, folk tunes, and operatic songs while at the peak of their vocal powers. Judd had always preached that you weren’t supposed to talk while eating; a mistake she concluded.

Exclaiming that the meal was an example of the best in Southern cooking, Naomi asked Jewel, “Were you born in the South?”

“No. We were born here, in the District. Our mother was born in North Carolina and our father was from Virginia. But Mom wasn’t much of a cook, Southern or otherwise.” Naomi detected a preference for another topic in Rufus’s change of expression. Jewel must have noticed it.

“Come on, big bro,” she chided, “don’t be a stick in the mud.”

“What’s a stick in the mud?” Preston asked.

“It’s a real sweet man who gets his wires crossed,” Naomi answered, without giving the matter much thought.

Jeff, Jewel’s husband hooted. “Looks to me like things have evened out. There’s another sharp-edged tongue at this table today.” The bantering continued through desert, and Rufus gradually rejoined the fun, but Naomi knew that her question had cast a temporary pall over the gathering: Rufus had seemed pained by the reference to his mother.

Rufus left his children with Jewel while he drove Naomi back to his house to get her car. She was nervous and a little anxious about being alone with him; each time they were together, her attraction to him became stronger, less manageable. And she was weakening in her ability to focus on his certain reaction to the factors in her past that he would never accept.
But I like being with him.

At the expense of displeasing him, she risked mentioning his mother. “I’m sorry about your mother, Rufus. And I’m sorry for some of the things I said in those notes I wrote to you before we met. I…Rufus, what happened to your mother?”

That she’d brought it up, knowing how he would react, sent a strong message to him: her action wasn’t motivated by curiosity. He looked straight ahead into the clear, starlit night, his mood deeply pensive. For a long while, he said nothing. But Naomi didn’t fidget or appear anxious. She simply waited, and her calm soothed him. Comforted him. A woman with enough patience to let a man weigh his words carefully before he uttered them was to be prized, he marveled, and wondered how she had developed it.

He told himself not to resent her question, that she had spoken to him of his mother because she felt something for him and needed to know him. He pushed aside a rising annoyance; Naomi was asking of him what she refused to give.

“Naomi, my mother was in a two-engine jet prop plane between Kumasi and Accra in Ghana, and it crashed.” He closed his eyes and his lips tightened. How could the pain be so severe after sixteen years?

“At first, I got angry with her for risking her life to get some ridiculous chocolate recipes for a book on cocoa. And then I cried. I still can’t forget how I missed her when I was little, because she had to work to take care of our invalid father, Jewel, and me. And I missed her when I got my degree, when I was named Super Bowl MVP, when my children were born, and when my marriage broke up. I wanted Mama to share my glory, and when Etta Mae left, I needed Mama to help me understand why I didn’t hurt, why I couldn’t make myself care.”

He glanced down at the woman beside him. “Well, you wanted to know. I won’t apologize for spilling it; once I started, I couldn’t stop.”

Naomi moved closer to him and settled for a hand on his right arm. He let her console him that way, though she said nothing, and he was glad; words were not what he needed.

After a while, he continued. “My memories of my father prior to his accident aren’t very clear. I do know that he became an invalid shortly before Jewel was born. I was seven then. Mama once said that when Papa was healthy, he was a man among men and that she would love him forever. As an adult, I understand why she was away so much, but as a child, it hurt and I resented it.”

Naomi squeezed his hand and spoke softly. “Jewel seems to have come to terms with this.”

It amazed him that Naomi could get such a keen understanding of people after having been around them only briefly. His sons. His sister. He wondered if she understood him, too. “You’re very perceptive.” He looked to his left, as a speed demon drove by. “None of this affected her as it did me, mostly because Jewel had me from birth. And I told myself when she was born that I would take care of her, protect her from loneliness. And I have. Still, Jewel makes certain that she doesn’t duplicate Mama’s life; she has an old-fashioned profession and old-fashioned attitudes about home. Even her house is old-fashioned. It’s Jeff who’s modern. He shares the housework and child care with her. They’re happy because they’re a team. They think of each other and of their children before they consider themselves. Jewel is a devoted wife and mother, and last year she received the PTA’s annual award as outstanding teacher. I’m proud of her.” Naomi moved closer to him so that their bodies touched and, deeply affected, he accepted the gesture for what it was.

“Jewel is very likeable.” While he drove through the night, she searched his facial expression as though trying to gauge his mood.

He shrugged. “Most people think so. She also likes to try to run my life, even though I’m seven years her senior.”

“You shouldn’t begrudge her the effort; I’m sure she just tries out of habit.”

“What does that mean?” He wasn’t certain of the implication.

“I’m trying to think of the kind of person who could tell you what to do, and when and how to do it.” She explained. “Nobody comes to mind, except perhaps your football coach, and I’ll bet you gave him a hard time. Nope. I don’t think anybody could run your life; you wouldn’t stand for it, and Jewel knows it.”

He relaxed his bruising grip on the steering wheel, relieved that she hadn’t reacted with one of witticisms. Why had it been so important to him that her comment not be flippant?

“I’m not so difficult, Naomi, and I don’t think I’m overly sensitive. But I’ve had some experiences that I don’t intend to have again. And I’m going to do everything within my power to see that my boys are spared what I went through. I used to sit up until all hours and wait for Etta Mae to come home. I would have met her after work, but she never knew what time the crew would finish the shoot. If she got a coveted assignment, she was happy only until she heard that another model had gotten a better one. It was an obsession; nothing else and no one else mattered. In the end, it destroyed our marriage.” He eased up on the accelerator and took the car slowly up Hillandale Road on a meander through Little Falls Park and the beautiful surrounding neighborhood.

She wanted to get still closer to him. It was the first time he’d spoken to her that way, and she felt a new kinship with him. Finally, unable to resist, she pressed herself against him, and, as if warmed by her gentle caring, he turned into Wellington Drive and stopped the car.

“Why are you stopping?” She knew that if she commented on his disturbing revelations, he would withdraw and the mood would be destroyed.

Rufus turned to her. “I’m leaving you in your lobby tonight, because if I get past that, I’ll be in trouble.” He didn’t soften it with a smile.

“I’ll keep you out of trouble; trust me.” She wished she could believe that, but she failed to convince even herself.

“Yeah, I know, Just as you always do.” His voice held a hint of amusement, enough to remind her exactly how little immunity to her he had. He braced his right elbow on the backrest and rested his head in his hand.

“I’ve never had such a puzzling relationship with anyone, female or male. You and I have a great deal in common. We like each other…well, most of the time we do, and we want each other.
All
the time, I’d say. You know, there are times, Naomi, when I feel in my gut that you’re right for me, that something really good could develop between us. But there are other times when I doubt that, when I’m positive I don’t know you at all, that something important about you is hidden somewhere. And that it’s hidden intentionally.”

She had been looking at him, listening intently, and getting the uncomfortable feeling that she had already lost her way. She was going to hurt and hurt badly no matter what she did.

“But I don’t…” she said aloud, and stopped.

“Don’t what? Don’t hide what matters most?”

She shook her head and tried to divert him. “You’ve said a lot in those few words, Rufus; I’ll have to consider what you’ve said. I want to give you honest answers, but you want me to think about things that I’ve been unwilling to address.”

He rested his arm lightly around her shoulders. “Am I ever going to know who you are, Naomi?”

She raised her left hand to his face, acting innocently, motivated purely by her need to touch him, to show him some tenderness, to communicate the deeply compassionate nature that she so rarely allowed him to see. He looked down at her as she caressed his jaw with featherlike touches. “It seems we’ve both had difficult lives,” she said, almost in a whisper, seducing herself with the intimate gesture of stroking his face. “If I get all the answers and if we’re still friends when that happens, I’ll share those answers with you.”

“I want to believe you. Why don’t you try trusting me? I won’t disappoint you. Believe me, I know how it feels, Naomi, when someone you care for lets you down, when you find that you can’t depend on that person.” She’d seen him wicked, serious, angry, and in other moods, but he had not previously allowed her to see him in a state of such heartrending vulnerability. Suddenly, his carefully sheltered need was exposed and she could see the man who’d missed out on the strong parental attentiveness that he’d craved as a child, and who had seen his dreams of his own happy family and graceful home dissolve into bitterness.

She didn’t think; her arms stole around his neck. She leaned toward him, and without the least hesitation, he met her with an urgent, hungry kiss, crushing her to him. Everything that had gone on between them throughout the afternoon and into the evening had been leading up to that moment, when his stifled groan told her how much he needed her. Instinctively, she drew him closer to her, kissed his stubbly cheek, his closed eyelids, his chin. She couldn’t say the words, knew even in her passion that she had better not say them, but her every gesture said,
I adore you.